A Broken Promise
by mshannat
Summary: Arthur's lungs are beaten, his mind shutting down and his heart broken, all because of an anniversary, broken promises and a car. T because I'm paranoid.


"I promise you." He stared the blonde down. "It'll only take a second." Thats what he'd said.

Only a second.

A second and the world came crashing down. A broken promise. Waking up in a hospital bed.

Tubes going inside his arms. Heart monitors. The heavy feeling in his heart. Something was missing. A light was extinguished.

Memories hit him like a car.

Nurses struggling to calm him down.

Exploding.

Screaming.

"Everything is going to be okay."

Ice cream.

He had to stop for ice cream.

One Year Later

Arthur tipped his head back until the drink emptied down his throat. "Another." He said immediately. The bartender refilled his beer and placed it on the wooden bench in front of Arthur. The blonde gulped that one down quicker than the first. The condensation on the side of the glass buried its self inside the warmth of Arthurs finger-less woollen blue gloves.

"Arthur you might want to slow down." The bartender said.

The fiery eyed blonde had come there so often the bartenders-_all_ of them- knew him by name. He faintly remembered this one, from a few weeks prior. He was old, maybe somewhere in his late forties. His black hair was greying and thinning. His eyes had dulled but were still a pale blue, they stood out of place on the wrinkled texture of his face.

Arthur waved his comment aside and gestured for him to fetch another. This one wasn't finished in seconds like the others, Arthur stared at it for a while. Watching the moisture drip down the sides, making little pools of water on the polished wood bench. He scratched his head through his small grey beanie and sipped the foamy beer. He didn't particularly enjoy the taste, but as long as it got him drunk he didn't care anymore.

Bigger sips now. Gulps. Then sculling, until the tall glass wan empty.

Mind replaying old memories that were buried deep within his heart. Ones he wanted to forget and treasure forever at the same time.

Right now he wanted to forget.

"Another." The bartender, whose name Arthur had long since forgotten, sighed and refilled the froth covered glass. Beer sloshed as the glass hit the table, sending froth bubbling over the side and onto the wood.. Bartender muttered and wiped it up. Finished the beer just as the man had finished wiping the mess.

"Two more." The older man silently obliged. Arthur was feeling the effect of the alcohol now. As he opened his mouth to ask for more, the bartender raised a bushy eyebrow knowingly, Arthur nodded in response.

Soon empty pint and shot glasses surrounded the sorrowing Brit. He was just finishing his eleventh beer when he knocked one of the glasses with his elbow. It fell onto the hard carpeted floor and shattered. Glass scattering in all directions, going under tables and smashing into other stools and chairs.

Glass shattered.

Screaming. Shouts.

"Arthur, look at me."

Ambulance. Sirens.

"Arthur, look at me." Arthur forced himself to turn to the voice. Almost crying out in alarm when he saw curious blue eyes. "Arthur?" The bartender repeated. The man looked at Arthur, his shoulders were shaking with hollow sobs and great tears fell from his eyes. He knew Arthur needed to go now but still felt horrible about doing it.

"Arthur, you need to go home now." He knew the Briton's home wasn't far from here.

"It's one year today." Arthur choked out. "Today is the anniversary." He started to howl, sounding as if he was in an immense amount of pain. But he was.

The other people turned and looked at the sobbing blonde who they all saw there every other week, crying out like a wounded animal. "It was tonight!" He cried. The bartender came around the bar to Arthur and started to lead him out. Once he was at the door, Arthur pushed the man away. "I'm fine!" He shouted, pushing open the door. The bell on top of the door frame rang, signalling Arthur's leave.

The sky was black. It was one of those nights when people told you the night sky was actually dark blue, you would never have believed them. The clouds were wrung out across the sky like twisted sheets. Arthur admired this as he stumbled along two streets towards his house. The drunk blonde didn't look when he crossed a street towards a park. A pale green ute honked at him. The twenty something year old driver leaned his head out the window and gave Arthur an earful. He shrugged him off and continued to the park. The swings moved ever so slightly in the breeze. Arthur sat down softly and slowly started to rock. The wind tickled his cheek and ran its fingers through his hair. It felt so familiar but he wouldn't believe in silly things like this.

Arthur closed his eyes and instantly, the sun started to warm his face.

"Artie!" Arthur didn't open his eyes. "You have to keep your eyes open while you swing! It's no fun otherwise!" A sad smile appeared on his lips.

Arthur remembered this conversation. He's had it a million times with his memory. He knew what he would say next and what the reply would be. It was tedious but so addicting.

But, he always got his hopes up. Got too excited. He opened his eyes too early and the illusion shattered like a bullet through glass. Arthur wasn't sure if he enjoyed these moments or if emotions from before mixed with the ones he was feeling now. He felt happy, but knew he wasn't.

"It's more fun if you close your eyes, love." He whispered. Tears were stinging his eyes. The scoff that came after sounded so real. So close. If he reached out, he was sure he could touch the other's face. He would feel it. Feel the warmth and familiarity of the skin that would greet his touch. Not just a memory, but a beautiful reality.

"Yeah right." His voice was closer now. Arthur knew what was going to happen. In the memory, he got pushed high up into the air by his boyfriend.

But he didn't. It was impossible. The wind wasn't that strong.

It didn't matter if he opened his eyes now. The memory was gone. Not forgotten, just gone.

Tears snaked out of the blonde's moss covered irises, making delicate patters over his cheeks before dripping off his chin into the sand. His rough woollen hand destroyed the patterns. The sand was dotted with his footsteps and tears when he could finally leave.

"I don't know what you find so interesting about flowers." Arthur's breath was caught in his throat. His mind forced him to say the next line. It was if he was in some awful, demonic play, being forced to play the part of the broken hearted young man. He loathed it. Arthur was a prisoner of his own mind, a puppet on strings being controlled by his subconscious. The worst part was, there was nothing he could do about it.

"They- they." The puppeteer moved his mouth. "They are beautiful." He murmured dolefully.

"Then there should be a flower named after you." The voice seemed to come from inside a nearby greenhouse. Three hundred and sixty eight days ago, he was gardening with his beautifully annoying boyfriend. "They would be the most beautiful flower in the world and people would pay millions of dollars for them because they are so rare. The petals would be the colour of your hair and the centre of the flower would be very pale pink. Everyone will love them even though they have fuzzy black lines in the middle!" Arthur'd punched him lightly on the shoulder and called him a wanker. He never realised how much he missed the blonde until he was gone. You never do. Arthur knew it was trespassing but he walked inside the greenhouse, the smell of mulch invaded his nose. There was a pang at his heart. Everything had been perfect.

Arthur left the greenhouse quicker. He was becoming sober, much too quickly for his liking. He started to rush back to his house. Not too far away, but when you're desperate for a drink, a metre turns into a kilometre. A five minute journey turns into a marathon. While he was running Arthur heard little snippets of conversation he'd had.

"Shut up git!"

"I love you."

"Not in your lifetime!"

"You know you love it!"

"Don't be a tosser!"

Laughing.

Every memory was scorched into his mind and left an impression on his heart. It was awful but beautiful.

Conversations he didn't remember the beginning of.

Jokes he didn't remember the punchline of.

People he didn't remember the names of.

Lives he'd made an impression on.

People he'd talked to.

Moments. Scattered in no particular order, coming alive from all over his mind, his memory.

Scattered like glass and leaves. Snowflakes being spun gracefully by a breeze. Snowball fight.

Before he knew it, he was home.

Arthur ran straight up to the door and fumbled through numb fingers for his keys. They fell through his hands to the bricks below. "Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit." He huffed and scooped them off the floor, successfully inserting the correct key into the lock. He pushed the door hard and almost fell over.

Arthur was in such a rush he ran straight to the fridge where he knew there was beer and if he was lucky, vodka. Momentarily, he paused in front of the cabinet where he kept the cups and glasses. "Fuck it." He muttered and returned to the living room.

Six shots and three bottles of beer later, Arthur was sobbing. "I'd give anything to have you back." He whispered to no one, picking up the bottle of vodka and walking around his house. Arthur could feel all the memories like he could before. There were the smells of his cooking, the sounds of laughter and he could even feel the breeze, warmth and cold.

"Arthur?" Arthur turned so quickly, he almost fell over and considering he was already on the verge of being _completely_ off his face, he had to stagger backwards to try and balance.

"Arthur, are you there?" The blonde opened his mouth but no sound came out. He was so intoxicated he didn't even realise this might be his mind playing some vile joke on him. Arthur staggered towards the sound.

"I'm here!" He shouted desperately. "Just don't leave!" He ran down a hallway towards a door. Arthur paused. He hadn't opened this door, since last year. The blonde gripped the door knob. It felt so foreign in his hand but warm and inviting. He pushed open the door and flicked on the light. The bulbs hadn't been on in so long. Arthur made his way across the room to sit down on the bed, still clutching a bottle of vodka. He took a swig.

It still smelled of him.

Arthur looked around the room. Every poster was still up, every book was jumbled on a bookcase across from him. A few stray tears escaped his eyes and landed in his lap. Arthur lay down on the forever unmade bed. He sobbed and pulled the blankets around him until he was in a cave of darkness and the smell of him. Arthur didn't care he was disturbing the way it had been left. He was just left to the sounds of his sobs and hiccups. Eventually the distraught Brit drifted to sleep.

It was ten at night and Arthur was with the person he loved most in the world on top of a grassy hill. The hill was a rich forest green colour. The remnants of their dinner sat on plates which was protected from the grass by a chequered picnic blanket. Arthur was lying on the grass and looking at the stars. He could see so many.

"Close your eyes." Arthur let his eyes close. He could hear the door open and then slam shut.

"Okay open." Arthur rolled over onto his stomach and saw his boyfriend standing in front of his car with a small, beat up radio.

"Did you really have to bring a radio?" Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Mine's broken." The other blonde smiled, shrugging. Arthur rolled his eyes as his partner turned on the radio and turned the volume up high. Then he held out his hand. Arthur could see his blue eyes twinkling in the light of the stars. "May I have this dance?" He asked.

Arthur took his hand. "Of course." They slow danced. Arthur's head on the other's shoulder. He was always slightly annoyed about how short he was.

They danced for maybe an hour. "I'm getting tired." Arthur said, breaking the silence. Dark rain clouds had started to roll ominously over the hills.

"Okay, but one more thing."

"What?" Arthur yawned. "I'm so tired." Arthur's eyes widened as his blonde boyfriend got down on one knee.

"Arthur Kirkland. The love of my life. My stars, moon and all other clichés you can think of. Will you marry me?" Arthur didn't move.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!" He jumped into his fiancee's arms. When he stopped hugging him, his fiancee picked him up bridal-style and carried him to the car. Once Arthur was in the car he went back and grabbed the picnic things and the radio. Before driving off in their beat up old wreck.

Around halfway back, Arthur saw they weren't going home. "Where are we going?" He asked, looking away from the rain streaked window to his now fiancee.

"To get the only thing that would make this day better." His fiancee grinned. "Ice cream." Arthur groaned.

"Really?"

"I promise you." He stared the blonde down. "It'll only take a second." He ran inside a supermarket, covering his head with his jacket and emerged a few minutes later with two ice creams cartons.

"I got you _Rum & Raisin_." He started the car. "I got chocolate for myself." They stopped at a stop sign. "Obviously." He flashed a smile at Arthur.

"You idiot! Watch the road!" No sooner had he spoken, a car came tearing down the road and hit the side of their car; the car crumpled and turned sideways.

Arthur could only hear a high pitch drone that didn't stop.

"Arthur!" He faintly heard his name being said. "Arthur!" He turned and saw his fiancee. He was covered in blood and rain from the window being hit. The door on his side was completely pushed in. It looked as though it was crushing him. His leg looked completely mangled and there was glass from the windshield stuck in various areas of his skin. "Arthur look at me." Arthur forced himself to look from the door to his fiancee's blue eyes. The eyes were scared.

"Arthur, everything is going to be okay." Arthur started to feel drowsy. "Arthur, I love you. Please hold on." The man who was in the other car was conscious and screaming bloody murder into his phone, demanding an ambulance be sent there immediately. Arthur tried to stay awake but everything looked as though he was looking through straws. It was so far away and he could feel himself slipping. . .

"I love you too Alfred." He whispered back. Both in the dream and hidden under the covers that once belonged to a man who would now forever sleep.

^ 000 ^

AN: Hi~

I'm really sorry about the shitty title but I couldn't think of one and yeah

I'm just gonna leave this here . . . :)

~Mshannat


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